


And It Keeps Cursing My Name

by jenkoandschmidt



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M, Reunion, X-Men: First Class References, a sob fest honestly, charles can walk, charles doesn't have his powers, charles is on the serum, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 01:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11280588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenkoandschmidt/pseuds/jenkoandschmidt
Summary: Charles and Erik reunite in 1973, ten years after the beach in Cuba. It's New Year's Eve and they finally get to talk about everything that's happened.





	And It Keeps Cursing My Name

The room is incredibly stuffy, despite the reduced temperature due to the winter season, Charles finds himself re-adjusting the scarf around his neck more than he can count on both hands. He doesn’t focus on whatever the person before him is saying and finds himself flicking his gaze around the room while trying to seem interested in the conversation. There’s also the possibility that the reason why Charles Xavier is feeling bothered is because of Erik Lehnsherr’s presence. Not in a good way — there could never be with Erik, not after all that’s happened.

Ten years, it had been. Ten years since he’s had his soul ripped from within the centre of his being, ten years since he’s felt anything truly akin to pure joy. Although the memories of the past pain him in ways he wishes not to explore, it does stir an ache within him, to reminisce for and dream of feeling blind happiness once more. He’s learnt to conceal his sorrows and smile at the correct moments in order to feign normalcy. His close friends have become accustomed to his new mannerisms and coping mechanisms, they do not see past his facade (and if they do, they’re doing a damn good job of pretending not to). It should concern him … it really should, however he’s lost his motivation to care. So, what does it matter?

Even if his friends assume he’s fine, there’s always Erik Lehnsherr. Erik who can see through him clearly and call Charles out on his bullshit. Erik, who he hasn’t seen in a decade and is lurking about the house tonight. Each year, Emma Frost hosts elaborate and illustrious New Year’s Eve parties that Charles is always invited to but never attends. His loss, apparently, because according to Emma and the rest of Charles’ friends, it is an immensely enjoyable and unforgettable evening, a stupendous start to the year.

The one year Charles finds himself unable to refuse Emma’s invitation any longer and the one year Charles is actually interested to attend the party, Erik Lehnsherr is there. As Hank is a dutiful friend and has attended the party almost every year in the past decade, he finds himself reporting to Charles on whether or not Erik _did_ attend the party this or that year, to which Charles would always reply with, ‘I don’t know why you bother telling me this, Hank.’ And from the yearly reports on Erik’s absences from the parties, it was only logical for Charles to assume Erik would be absent from this one also. He hated being wrong, was always a sore loser. 

Charles manages to escape the conversation with the woman before him (something about politics) and disappear into the alcove of the library. There are more people gathered in this room, and Charles thinks, that at least he won’t be easily detected because of the throng of people mingling about. He can’t find Hank, who he’s sure is in the kitchen trying to grab more of the crab cakes he saw him gulping down earlier. Out of all of his friends, Charles is closest with Hank. Charles suspects that Hank doesn’t see through his facade and Charles tries not to dwell too much on why he cares.

Leaning against the wall of the alcove, Charles takes a swig of the drink in his hand (whiskey, he thinks) and grimaces at the sight before him: people chatting and enjoying themselves. He sounds entirely pessimistic which would, perhaps, have bothered him ten years ago, but right now he really can’t find himself to care. It’s a few minutes of glaring at the crowd of people who pay no mind to him when a conversation snatches him out of his bitter thoughts. He knows immediately who it is. 

‘… haven’t been back in a few years, I’ve mostly been in Europe,’ he hears Erik say, and even though Erik isn’t doing anything wrong or mildly upsetting, Charles finds himself gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. Its abhorrently obvious that he’s still holding grudges against Erik. 

‘Oh and how is it over there? I’m planning on visiting an old aunt in July,’ another voice replies, one Charles doesn’t recognise. 

‘Spectacular, absolutely wonderful.’ 

Charles can’t help but roll his eyes and takes another swig of his drink. He remains concealed within the alcove, waiting for Erik and company to leave so Charles can make his escape from the party and not have to interact with Erik at all tonight. His plan seems to be a good idea until Hank comes waddling over to him with bread crumbs at the corner of his mouth, giggling childishly. 

‘Charles!’ he exclaims in a loud voice, tugging at Charles’ collar and guffawing.

Charles tries his hand at silencing his friend, but to no avail, he just laughs harder and increases his volume at Charles’ attempts.

‘McCoy!’ Good one, Hank. Charles makes a mental note to assassinate Hank when morning comes, but for now, he has another situation to handle.

‘Erik!’ Hank sounds far too happy about Erik’s presence. Only half an hour ago, he was reporting to Charles about Erik and sounding incredibly displeased and concerned about the issue. Now that he had some alcohol in his system and some crab cakes, his attitude seemed to change quite vastly.

‘Erik, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you last!’ Hank is saying exaggeratedly.

‘The same goes to you,’ Erik says. Charles has his back turned to Erik, but by the way Erik has made no indication of acknowledging Charles’ presence, Charles assumes Erik hasn’t seen him yet. 

‘We’ve been awfully lonely without you,’ Hank says and Charles inhales sharply, but before he can even think about exhaling, Hank is pulling him around to face Erik. ‘Charles and I miss you!’

Charles has his eyes fixed on the carpeted floor, adamantly refusing to meet Erik’s eyes. He claims not to care about what Erik has to say or how Erik is, but the trembling hand that’s holding the empty glass by his side says otherwise. Charles’ heart is thumping uncontrollably in his chest, and he finds he suddenly can’t breathe. Erik doesn’t say anything after that and Charles suddenly feels vulnerable, like some object beneath a microscope for inspection. He doesn’t enjoy the sensation of being prodded and analysed like this, it makes his fists curl and frown set deep. He _refuses_ to be ogled upon like this, like some show animal. So, out of pure indignation, Charles forces his chin up and his eyes to lock immediately with Erik’s. 

And, oh God. Perhaps he hadn’t thought through this at all, because before him, Erik’s looking at him in a way Charles has never experienced before. The feeling of being under a microscopic gaze fills him again and he feels like he’d rather swim in the icy river right now than be here. Erik’s gazing at him softly, his eyes wide with some kind of wonder and his lips parted like he’s lost the ability to breathe for the briefest of moments.

‘Is that so?’ Erik says absently to Hank. Charles purses his lips and gives Erik a pointed glare.

‘He’s drunk, I wouldn’t take anything he says into account,’ Charles snaps before shoving past the two of them, seeking refuge at the balcony in Emma’s bedroom. His excuse is ‘he’s a close friend, he has permission to lurk about in places others can’t.’

He sits on the floor of the balcony for a good thirty minutes before Erik finds him. Charles is surprised that Erik tried at all.

‘They’re playing a game downstairs,’ says Erik, and he sounds extremely uncomfortable. Charles can’t see him but he’s certain that Erik is fiddling with the hem of whatever he’s wearing. Suit, perhaps. Or maybe … he isn’t doing that, and maybe Charles doesn’t know Erik like he did — _if_ he did at all.

‘Something for the new year,’ Erik must be desperate. He’s trying to keep up conversation quite terribly and Charles almost chuckles pitifully but stops himself before he can. Charles tells himself that the reason he doesn’t say anything is because he wants to gain the upper hand and for Erik to suffer. It’s quite pathetic.

The longer Charles stays silent, the more strained Erik’s voice becomes. Like he’s suffocating, trying to breathe.

‘They ask the sorts of questions like “If you could go back in time to ten years ago, what would you tell your younger self?” and everyone seems to enjoy it,’ Erik says, and there’s a soft clanking of glass onto a wooden table. _Champagne_ , Charles thinks. 

More silence, and by now, Charles can tell that Erik is growing perpetually frustrated. He can hear fabric rustle softly behind him and now he’s absolutely certain that Erik is messing with the hem of his suit.

‘I … I didn’t know, you could — I had no _idea_. The last time I saw you, you were…’

‘On a beach, in Cuba.’

Erik quickly shuts his mouth and lets out an exhale. Charles is still pointedly looking over the horizon, the city lights aflame with life and excitement. Snow, was falling softly upon the balcony ledge and onto Charles’ head.

‘Last I _heard_ ,’ Erik corrects himself, ‘You were paralysed.’

Charles resumed to his silent stupor, visibly seething. Though he couldn’t tell if Erik was able to detect that at all.

‘I never meant for it to hit you, I never meant for us to fall apart. I am so _sorry_ —’

‘If I could go back in time ten years ago,’ Charles spits out, interrupting Erik. He’s sick of people feeling pity for him, he’s sick to death of sorries and sad eyes, and especially, Erik Lehnsherr. ‘If I could go back … I would say to myself, _“Don’t fall in love with him. Do not fall in love with him, because he will take you to museums and parks and monuments and he will make you feel like a king and kiss you in all your glory, in every beautiful place so that every time you rediscover those places, you will never forget the way he feels, the way he tastes. He will destroy you, in the way that made him beautiful, that made him powerful. And when he leaves you, you’ll finally understand how it feels to have your heart broken. If you never fall in love with him, at least then, you will never drink to ease the pain or give up everything you had to lose over one man. At least then, you will never know what it is to feel pain”._ ’

 

Erik is silent behind him. Stunned. Charles’ breathing is staggering and uneven, his chest heaving and his eyes are brimmed with tears. His heart is pounding loudly in his chest and he feels as though he’s about to vomit. He never really verbalised his feelings and thoughts about what happened between him and Erik before. He guesses now is as good a time as any. 

Charles musters the courage to stand and look Erik directly in the eyes. He’s glaring at Erik with cold, hard eyes despite the tears that are blurring his vision and warming his cheeks. Charles’ lips are set in a firm line of defiance and fury, fists clenched and shaking at his side.

He wasn’t prepared for the way Erik looked at him. In every scenario that Charles plays out of this exact moment, when he tells Erik about how he feels, how much anguish he’d brought upon Charles, he never takes into consideration how Erik might look or feel. It didn’t matter until the moment finally came. For a long while, they are engulfed in a tension filled, suffocating silence. The two of them simply stare at each other.

‘What do you think your younger self would do if you did tell him?’ Erik says, his tone even despite his rough voice. 

‘Despite it all, I think I’d still fall in love with you. I think it’s inevitable. I wish it were different, though,’ Charles says. Erik seems to contemplate Charles’ answer for a moment and he opens his mouth, breathless and with a longing expression.

‘Do you love me?’ Erik asks, and it’s unfair. It’s the most unfair question he could have ever asked Charles. Because while Charles resolutely hates Erik with every fibre of being in his body, he also loves him desperately. It was something Charles always hated himself for.

‘I wish I didn’t,’ Charles replies brokenly, sniffing. ‘I wish I’d gotten over you.’

Charles starts to move past Erik, briskly walking to the door and trying to fight the hot tears slipping past the rim of his eyes. He pauses, however, at a sudden thought.

‘Did _you_ love me?’ Charles whispers, his voice softer and more vulnerable. He hears Erik inhale sharply and make a sound behind him, like he’s about to say something, but Charles interrupts him quickly.

‘Don’t lie to me. Whatever you do, don’t you fucking lie to me.’

A moment’s hesitance, before, ‘I do.’

‘No you don’t,’ Charles scoffs.

‘I do. A million times, over, I still do, even after all these years,’ Erik’s voice is filled with conviction.

‘If you ever did, you wouldn’t have left me on that beach. Erik, you left us to _die_ ,’ Charles lets out in a gasp. ‘You can’t expect me to believe you when you say that you’ve loved me all along.’

‘What do you want me to say, Charles?’ Erik sounds dejected, tired, and he has absolutely no right to be. It wasn’t him whose life fell apart that day. It was he who had betrayed Charles that day. Erik had absolutely no right.

‘I wish I loved someone else,’ Charles says, ignoring Erik’s question. ‘I wish you didn’t consume me or affect me _so much_.’

‘I wish for the same, darling—’ Erik’s voice breaks at that, but he quickly composes himself. ‘I wish you’d never fallen in love with me. Because for all that I am, I am not worthy or deserving of you. Especially not after Cuba.’

Charles is almost a step out of the door, but he feels gravitated to the room. Like no matter what he does, he can’t fight it. Like something is keeping him from leaving. So he lets himself say one more thing, just one. ‘I have so many regrets, Erik. I look back on my life, and I need an entire book to write out how much I regret. However, I don’t regret ever falling in love with you. I’ll regret telling you this later, but I wanted you to know as much. Because for all that you are, and all you have done, I will always find a way to love you unconditionally.’

**Author's Note:**

> first post on here :) leave a comment if you like.


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